Darkest Before the Dawn
by captainohcaptain12
Summary: Two-parter fic that takes place between episodes 9 and 10. "Who the hell is this? Where is Matt?" The shrillness of her words left her mouth before she could think through the consequences of using his name again. "He's here - he told me to call you. I can't stop the bleeding." The man's voice trailed off into a panicked heave and again the phone shuffled.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Takes place between episodes 9 and 10. I'm new to this, but I fell in love - (perhaps obsessed is a better word for it) - with the show and binge watched over my weekend.

This came to me on my lunch break, so I thought I'd put the first part up and finish the second part this evening so it'll be a two parter.

Please let me know your thoughts. :)

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"The patient in triage four needs ten milligrams of oxycodone and at least ten stitches." Claire called to the retreating back of another nurse as she cornered the hall. The harsh hospital lights basked the hallway in a yellow haze, magnifying the imperfections of Metro General. Shuffling her sore legs to the clerk's desk, Claire felt a buzzing against her thigh. Peeking the phone a bit out from behind the fabric of her royal scrubs, she sighed heavily at the numbers that were glowing. Matt.

He had called earlier and left a message - one that had left her reduced to a mess of hot tears and heaving sobs - she didn't have time answer now, especially with the ER filled with seemingly every inhabitant of Hell's Kitchen. Claire had reached the clerk's desk, grabbing the stack of charts from behind the desk phone, and eased herself gently into the chair. Clicking open the pen, she nearly began to mark the form when she felt the familiar vibration against her thigh. _ Oh, for Christ's sake._ Forcefully fishing the phone out of her deep pocket, Claire cursed in response to the name that crossed the screen once more.

"Matt, I just can't pick up whenever you call, you kno—"

"Hello?" An unfamiliar and tentative voice breathed heavily on the other end of the line and Claire felt her heart suddenly begin to hammer a cadence against her sternum. That was definitely most not Matt.

"Who the hell is this?" Claire whispered hoarsely into the receiver, quickly standing up and pushing the rolling office chair back. Her breathing shortened as she quickly walked down and through ER doors, stepping into the fine mist that was spraying from the sky above. There was a long pause on the other end and she could hear the other voice whisper a loud fuck and then followed by a long moan.

"Is this … is this the nurse?" Another shuffle and a deep rattling breath. Panic seized up in Claire's chest, gripping her heart and lodging it into the back of her throat.

"Who the hell is this? Where is Matt?" The shrillness of her words left her mouth before she could think through the consequences of using his name again.

"He's here - he told me to call you. I can't stop the bleeding." The man's voice trailed off into a panicked heave and again the phone shuffled.

"Where?"

"His apartment. Hurry, please. Hurry."

Claire took a deep calming breath and readjusted the phone to her ear as she began to run towards Matt's apartment.

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Flattening her palm against the wooden door, Claire heaved back her emotions in one last breath. Her hand barely graced the frame when the door swung open revealing a man with longer blond hair, who quickly spun on his heels back towards the open living area of Matt's apartment. The lone lamp of the living room had been haphazardly moved closer to middle of the room and it was then that she saw his prone figure laying with his arms spread open.

"Jesus…I need you to grab the kit that he has in his bathroom. Now." Her voice was steady, but her insides clenched as she took in the sight before her. Matt's dark locks lay clumped and matted against his forehead where a sheen of sweat and blood had combined. The dark blood starkly stood out against the pallor of his skin, the blue haze of the Jumbotron enshrouding his form. The man sputtered for a moment as if to ask how she knew about the kit before he snapped his jaw shut and moved.

Kneeling next to Matt, Claire felt her heart once again drop. His snugly fitting black thermal clung to his chest, saturated with a sticky dampness. Two large shreds in the material exposed mottled flesh and striated muscle beneath. The cuts were deep and still oozing deep ruby blood. His eyes were closed, his left nearly swollen shut. Even in the dark light, Claire could see a deep bruise already forming beneath the blood. Gently placing two fingers against his pulse point in his neck, Claire suppressed a shudder at the coldness of his skin. His pulse was thready - irregular - and scared the living hell out of her. He was losing too much blood. His chest moved slowly, a hoarse rattling echoing through the acoustics of the open room.

"Matt, can you hear me? I need to know if you can hear me." Her hand cupped his chin, bringing her own face within inches of his own. She could hear his breathing hitch and a second later his eyes fluttered open, revealing bloodshot hazel orbs gazing unseeing towards the ceiling. His arm shot forwards and clutched her wrist, a grimace of pain and another low moan escaping his cracked lips.

"Claire?" It came out as a whisper, almost a plea.

"I'm here. I need you to stay awake for me, okay?" His eyes had begun to flutter shut once more and in response Claire gently nudged his chin towards her. The effect was a cry of pain but his eyes once again snapped open. She could hear the other man in the back room, and then a large crash, before he came hurdling once more around the broken window frame. A kit was clutched in his hand yet he seemed hesitant to move any closer.

"Is this what he does?" His voice sounded angry. Betrayed. Hurt.

"I need you to focus and help me, okay? What is your name?" She saw Matt tilt his head towards the other man, another wince crossing his bloodied features.

"Foggy. My name is Foggy and I thought that I was his friend." It came out as a whisper, but she had already turned her attention back towards Matt. The knees of her scrubs were damp with the blood that had seeped from his body and across the hard floor. Snapping on a pair of latex gloves she fished from her pocket, Claire gingerly touched his cheek once more.

"Foggy, I—" His words were clipped, strained, and ended with a cough that wracked his frame.

"Matt, tell me where it hurts. Are you injured on your back?"

The kit came into her field of vision and she pulled the scissors out from the pocket and began to cut away at the thin fabric, exposing his chest.

"Jesus fucking Christ…What in the hell, Matt?" Foggy shouted, his hands flying to cover his mouth. Slinging the shredded fabric the side, Claire gently fingered the flesh on his side and lifted to get a better view of his back.

A thunderous scream erupted from Matt's lips, ending abruptly almost as soon as it began. Quickly letting go, Claire's attention snapped to his slack face. His eyes had closed and short small breaths were released in harsh gasps for a few seconds before…nothing.

"Matt? Matt!"


	2. Chapter 2

So sorry y'all for the delay! Here is the final part two!

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"Matt, I need you to open your eyes. Right now, do you hear me?" The fear was creeping back into her voice, shaking the words as they crossed her lips. She felt her hand instinctively reach towards his face, careful to dodge the dark bruises, cupping his chin towards her. His eyes had fluttered shut, the dark lashes stark against the pallor of his skin.

"Matt?" Foggy had come out from behind the couch, hovering over Claire's shoulder and breathing hot air into her space.

Matt's chest stopped moving and Claire moved her finger tips a few inches down towards his carotid pulse point. Her breath caught in her throat, her own labored breathing roaring through her ear drums as the room tilted and distorted.

Ten seconds passed and she resisted a sob that threatened to tear from the back of her throat.

"Why in the hell aren't you doing anything?" Foggy had fallen to his knees next to her, staring at Matt's prone body with a detached horror.

Moving into action and allowing the adrenaline to take hold, Claire rose to her knees from her hunched huddle over Matt and situated herself over him. Her hands moved in a steady cadence, pumping his chest down with a harsh vigor. Sweat beaded on her brow, dripping down her cheeks. She felt a stinging sensation at the back of her eyes - itching, clawing—

"You dumb…," two breaths, his cracked dry lips harsh against her own as she breathed into him "dumb….jackass." Each word whispered, but deafening in the stagnant room.

Each pump became more frantic - deeper and sloppier - as the seconds passed on.

Two more breaths, her teeth clashing upon Matt's as she struggled to maintain her composure. She felt once more at his neck still feeling nothing pulsating against the pads of her fingertips.

Straightening her back, she felt the vertebrae crack and pop, as she lifted her thigh over his form and used this new position to use her strength - with one last pump, she felt it before she heard it.

Matt's eyes snapped open once more - wild as they stared up towards the ceiling. Deep groans emitted from his purple lips, the sweetest sound she'd ever heard. Claire quickly moved off him and found her hands at the nape of his neck, lifting his head as she whispered in his ear. A briny wetness mingled with the sweat in her hair and she could feel the chill suddenly in the air.

"That's it, nice and easy deep breaths. Can you hear me, Matt?" Her words sounded distant to her own ears. Matt's dark eyes flicked back and forth without reason for a few more moments before settling just beyond Claire's face, the cloudiness of his irises cleared in a moment of recognition.

"Is…is this getting…old yet?" She felt the sob rise with the small bark of involuntary, incredulous laughter.

"Matt…I need to give you something to help with the pain. I know that you don't like it, but you've lost your choice to that the moment we kept you from the hospital. I need to stitch you up before you need a transfusion."

His face fell into a tight grimace and she heard Foggy move for the first time behind her.

"You have drugs just —just with you? What type of nurse are you?"

She shot a look over her shoulder before turning back towards Matt, realizing that her soaked knees had began to cool. The thin stained blue material clung to her kneecaps and shins, sticking as the blood began to congeal. The wounds on Matt's chest weeped a dark ruby red, trickling down his exposed side and riveting down his rib cage. The wound on his back was deep, still pulsating with his heart, and widening the sea of red across the floor. She snapped a latex glove out of her pocket, and blew on her hand as she wiped it against a dry part of her top. She snapped the glove across her wrist, struggling with the fingers against the sweat and powder of the latex, and used her fingers to examine the wound. A harsh rattle from Matt brought her attention back towards his face.

"I'm not going to put you out without your permission Matt, I promise."

His jaw clenched for a moment, back and forth as his back teeth ground, before he nodded almost unnoticeably. Claire let out a sigh that she hadn't known she'd been holding and felt the corners of her lips raise in a small smile.

"Good man." She reached her gloved into the leather bag at her side and found the syringe nearly immediately. Dropping the cap and dipping the needle into the bottle in one fluid motion, she then tapped the glass with one bloody fingertip. Her other hand brushed the fringe off across Matt's forehead, feeling him tilt his head towards her as a heavy sigh left his lips.

"You're going to be okay, Matt." The words whispered into his ear and she saw his outstretched arm reaching towards her own. The syringe plunged into his flesh and a few moments later, with a quiet sigh, his eyes once again closed.

Quickly moving again into action and pushing aside the emotions that threatened to spill over, she called back over her aching shoulders.

"Get some more clean towels…and a bowl of hot water. The hottest that the tap goes. Move quickly."

Foggy moved across the room and it wasn't but a few moments later that the bowl was sloshed in front of her, near Matt's shoulder blade. His head had fallen limply to the side and his breath had evened into a soft cadence. Even in a drug induced sleep, his eyes and brow seemed crinkled in distress. She moved quickly and reached into her bag to grab the necessary materials and supplies to begin to stitch his wounds back together.

With a deep breath she steadied her hand and pinched the two sides of the slash across the left side of his chest. The skin hung thick, yellow edges, and dark blood oozing as she pulled them taut to begin the first stitch. She quickly moved through the stitches knotting the end as she finished.

"Jesus Christ, I'm going to be sick." She didn't turn around when she heard the other man leave the room, the retching sound distinguishable and harsh as he rushed towards the back of the apartment. Leaning back against her heels, she weaved her fingers into Matt's limp hand. The knuckles were bruised in various shade of purple and yellows.

Shrugging against the thoughts that clouded her resolve and judgement, she began to lift his side to gain a better look at his flank wound.

"I need you in here to hold him up so I can get this. You need to keep it together right now, okay? I can't do this by myself, Foggy." She raised her voice directing it towards the back room, the words echoing across the vast empty room. She heard a shuffle from the back room and the man emerged from behind the cracked door. Vomit spittled upon his dress shirt that hung wrinkled from his larger frame, the tie haphazardly around his neck. Red angry splotches marred his face and his eye's bulged from behind heavy maroon rimmed lids.

His eyes darted towards Matt's prone body and settled upon her hand enclosed in Matt's before clenching his jaw and averting his gaze back towards Claire's.

"What do you need me to do?"

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